


Lover Come Back

by Brighid



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Community: reel_sga, Deception, M/M, Mpreg, Screwball, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-04
Updated: 2012-08-04
Packaged: 2017-11-11 10:14:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brighid/pseuds/Brighid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney and John, in a fusion with the Doris Day/Rock Hudson movie of the same title are business rivals who are constantly trying to get a leg over one another. And boy, do they.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lover Come Back

Title: Lover Come Back   
Author: Brighid   
Warnings: NC-17. And it's from a rather screwball comedy, so don't expect anything too serious here. The rest is caveat lector, which is nothing, I assure you, like Hannibal Lector.   
Prompt: Lover Come Back

 

Lover Come Back

The transport pod ducked with Webster Tower smoothly, like a kiss; nevertheless, John woke up instantly at the hiss of equalizing pressures. "Oh, God," he said succinctly.

"Has very little to do with what we got up to last night," Cameron said from the other seat. "Have a nice day at the office, darlin'." He drawled the last word out, somehow making it sound slow, sexy and scorchingly hot.

John stood, stretched, felt every last goddamned vertebrae pop and then leaned down and kissed Cam's smiling mouth. The kiss continued as Cameron stood unsteadily and they fumbled their way to the opening door, much to the delight of the two women waiting to enter.

"Well, hello boys," one of them said, a brunette with a wickedly knowing smile. "If you need another few minutes, there's no rush. Samantha and I can wait. Samantha and I can watch, for that matter ... if you like." She reached out, tracked a slow finger down the line of Cam's shirt seaming.

The blonde's scandalized: "Vala!" mingled with Cam's low chuckle, and it had ... possibilities, but John pulled back regretfully all the same. 

"Tempting, but I've got a busy day ahead of me," he said, smiling. The brunette winked at him.

"And after a busy night, too," she said sympathetically. "Perhaps some other time then. I'm Vala Mal Doran. You'll remember that, won't you dear?" She reached out, took the blushing blonde's hand and dragged her into the pod behind her.

John sketched a salute to her retreating back and then turned back to Cameron. "Thanks for ... everything," he said, and damn, this part always sucked. "I'll give you a call sometime..."

Cameron, however, just rolled his eyes. "No you won't," he said dryly, and then leaned in for a kiss that was anything but. "Have fun debasing the wisdom of the Ancients to whiter whites and tighter tights," he said breathlessly against John's lips.

John nodded. "Yeah, I'll do that. And you have a fun doing ... whatever it is that you do."

Cam rolled his eyes again, and then set off towards the East Tower network transporters, while John turned on his heel and made his way to the top-floor offices of Asgard and Mann.

)0(

The mass-transport pod was beyond crowded, and God, people were breathing his air, goddammit, not just their own, but there hadn't been a single pod available and...

"Do not touch me," he said, glaring down at the very small redhead who had just surreptitiously wiped her nose against his pants leg. She stuck her tongue out at him. "Oh, yeah, that's mature," he said. "If I give you chocolate will you go away?"

"So this is how you win friends and influence people, Rodney?" There was jostling and rustling and a petite, perky blonde who just happened to be one of the lesser banes of his existence was suddenly at his elbow. 

"Good morning, Cadman. Broom not working? And you!" He shook a finger down at the little redhead who was again wiping her apparently unstoppable runny nose against his trousers. "You go back to whomever spawned you and stop committing germ warfare on my person."

The redhead offered a finger of her own before crawling between the legs of other passengers. "Oh, that's really nice," he yelled after her, only to have Cadman yank on his arm. "What?"

"I've got Cowen's reservations, and the specs of what they found at the -- get this -- three Ancient sites from his sector of the Genii Alliance. You've still got the appointment for tomorrow morning?"

"So says his assistant," Rodney replied. "So that gives us just under twenty-two hours to come up with a winning proposal as to how we'll develop his sites. I'm thinking inter-galactic philanthropist might be a pitch to bring in."

Cadman frowned. "You mean eight hours, right, Rodney? I promised Carson I would be home on ... oh, shit. You mean twenty-two." She punched his arm. "You're such an asshole, you know that?"

Rodney snorted. "Violence is the last resort of the stupid. Philanthropy is an angle, Cadman, not my personal philosophy, although, the advancements we can engineer from this cache? Would be my legacy to mankind. Provided the rest of you don't screw it up. Have everyone in my lab about five minutes after we get there. And make coffee!" he said, pointing at her.

Cadman offered him a finger of her own before moving away from him.

Rodney sniffed. He suspected he might be getting a cold.

)0(

Teyla was waiting for John with his PDA outstretched. "Your table at the Silver Lotus has been reserved for nine o'clock tonight, and the Glories have been booked."

John took the PDA, scanned it and kept moving through into his office. "I want everything we've got on Cowen uploaded to me. Vices, virtues, guilty little pleasures. The type of woman he likes, or man. What he drinks, snorts, smokes or patches. And I want to know where his family was in the Last Battle. And coffee. Lots and lots of coffee. He's got three sites and we need full access in order to appropriate and reverse engineer what we find into something the buying public doesn't realize they need yet." John turned to look at her. "And I asked for coffee, right?" he said, smiling winsomely.

"You always ask for coffee. Clean clothes are in your refreshing rooms," Teyla informed him, a single eyebrow arched in amusement. "I'm assuming you'll want your formals to go through the sonic?"

John nodded, "Yeah. It was a busy night."

"Aren't they all?" Teyla said, with only the faintest hint of a smile as John stripped down and handed her the black trousers and jacket and the high-collared, silver-threaded white shirt he'd worn out the night before.

"Have I told you lately that I love you, Teyla?" John said, wearing only his softly clinging silk briefs in to the refresher. 

"Everyday, John, about five minutes after I give you your coffee," she said. "The data you asked for, by the way? Was uploaded to your terminal before you got in." 

"That woman," said John to the framed print of Johnny Cash on the far wall, "is scary."

)0(

"Oh my God. Are you people idiots?" Rodney had given up yelling an hour ago. Now he was just openly despairing. "Did nobody ready the Genii briefing papers? Did everybody get their degree out of a cereal box?"

"What's a cereal box?" Miko asked, stopping her simulations to look up at him. The silvery sheen of her lensed eyes reflected the three-dimensional representation hovering in front of her.

"I have no idea," Rodney said. "It's just something my grandmother said. Which is irrelevant. What is relevant is if you people insist on purely theoretical applications with nothing that will make the Genii very, very rich? We won't have a hope in hell of accessing the sites and the Consortium will be swooping in and patenting everything including the doorknobs!"

"What's a doorknob?"

"Never mind! Cadman!" and thank god somebody knew their job because she was there like she'd beamed in, with a cup of hot coffee. "I want you to bring in the engineers," he said grimly. "And God help me, PR."

"If you are working with PR in here, I will go back to my lab," Zelenka announced, standing. "They keep trying to cut my hair and make me presentable." He added something that sounded very, very filthy in Czech. "I am not to be presented, thank-you, like a lap-scientist."

Rodney rubbed his face. "Zelenka. What have you got with the crystalline interface growing matrix so far?"

Zelenka blinked. "The first trial yielded nine viable crystals to be defined and programmed. They interfaced with our test gateship very well, actually, though I will need further study to..."

"Yes, yes, but can your crystals let the Genii fly the ancient gateships they have without the gene?" Rodney said, cutting through the explanation with a chopping motion.

"Yes," Radek asked. "Although given time we can refine them to access other systems and bypass genetic necessity altogether."

"We don't have time. What we need is something viable to give the Genii what they've been drooling over for the last two generations," Rodney said. "You take your team, pull your data together and bring it back to me. I'll go over it with PR."

"They're not cutting my hair," Zelenka said, but there was a glimmer of laughter in his eyes. "You? You do not have to worry about such things."

"Get out," Rodney said, but without any real heat. "And Miko? The Oversight Committee's notes say there's a nano-database in there. I want you to construct your simulations to explain exactly what enhanced nanites can do for the Genii in every field you can think of. Cadman?"

"Yeah, Rodney?" she said, still at his elbow. 

"Get me PR," he said.

"It's three in the morning," Cadman said. "PR is at home. They're sleeping. Or maybe even not sleeping, which is sort of what I had planned...." Rodney stuck his fingers in his ears to block her out.

Because he liked Carson, and tolerated Cadman, but?

Ewww.

)0( 

The blue-skinned girl spinning on the wires rigged across the centre stage of the Silver Lotus was very, very lovely, and despite being well into their third bottle of Athosian Fire Cowen was still very engrossed.

"Not that we allow Lurians on Genii First Worlds," he offered, eyes not leaving the stage. "Only pure sons and daughters of the Ancestors are permitted, to prevent such abominations as the Nests that once ruled in Pegasus. Still, on trading worlds? They're a nice enough breed, and the women are taking little things."

"Very limber," John agreed. "Would you like another glass, Chancellor Cowen?"

"Just a touch," Cowen said, holding his glass out. The music shifted and the pretty blue girl was replaced by a slender woman with honey-brown hair. "Now she's a beauty," Cowen said as she started into song. "And she knows the Ballad of the Brotherhood of Fifteen. Haven't hear that since I was a boy." He turned to John, smiling. "I'd like to meet that woman," he said, without any room for misinterpretation. "And while the Fire is good, I'd enjoy some Ice."

John waved the waiter over. "Athosian Ice, please," he said. "And you will be meeting Chaya a little later, which, wow. But when I told her it was you coming tonight, she couldn't be stopped. You know her family is of Genii Aleph, and can trace themselves to the Ancestors?"

Cowen blinked. "Really? Those Old Houses have wealth still, despite the dark generations. I'm surprised to find her singing for her supper."

John smiled at Cowen. "She's a bit of wild one, Sir. My own family is distantly connected to hers, so I've heard stories."

"I thought you were an Earther," Cowen said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. 

"Sheppards, Sir, were the first to come to Pegasus. Why, my great-grandfather fought with Acastus at the Siege," John offered. "Under the leadership of Cowen of Genii."

"He's the father of my House," Cowen said. "It would seem, Sheppard, that the Ancestors themselves have their hands in this."

John took a slow, measured sip of Ice, let it slide down his throat, numbing him right to the chest. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" he said, hiding a mile behind his glass.

When Cowen turned his eyes back to the stage, John gave a subtle thumbs-up to Chaya, who smiled sweetly and shifted on stage so that the lights turned her white sheathe transparent, giving Cowen the view of a lifetime. 

John refilled Cowen's glass, and smiled openly.

)0(

When Rodney reached the private transporter up to the luxury suites of the Embassy, there were about two dozen people offloading, most of them still drunk or stoned and some of them not entirely dressed. Intermixed with the revellers were a few professionals; Rodney recognized Aria of the Glories from the piece in the daily feed he'd read just two weeks ago. Apparently she'd given up the Firebird design for Stellar, because the swirl of gemstones on her skin painted a rather lovely portrait of the Milky Way. The lower curve of her collarbones sported a beautiful but totally inaccurate rendering of a nebula. 

Just this once, Rodney was willing to let scientific inaccuracies go for the sake of artistic merit. 

"You're staring at my breasts," she said softly, a slight smile curving her lips. "Does that mean you like breasts, or nebulae?"

"Both," Rodney said. "But I prefer blondes," he said apologetically, gesturing to the towering crown of auburn hair.

"Your loss," she said, leaning in to kiss him once. Her mouth tasted like mulled wine and cinnamon and wow. Auburn had its merits, apparently. "Too bad you missed the party, though. Perhaps I could have persuaded you otherwise." She patted his cheek and went to join the tall, slender man waiting for her down the corridor.

"Yeah, too bad ... what party?" Rodney called, and. Oh. Shit.

This had Sheppard all over it.

It took fifteen minutes for him to find Cowen in the shambles of the suite, and he was still somewhat busy with a very blue, very limber young woman with really incredible breath control.

"Asgard and Mann has what I need," Cowen said, breath hitching. "They can offer us the capital to finance several infrastructure ... oh, hell ... projects and ..."

"But we can help you adapt Ancient technology for your own use; you wouldn't lose access, you'd benefit every step of the ..." He ducked a pillow thrown at his head. "Hey. I had an appointment!" Rodney said.

"Your time's up," Cowen bellowed. "Now ... out."

Rodney tripped over a woman ... oh, god. Chaya. It was a wonder the press corps weren't outside waiting to dissect the scene of the crimes.

Sheppard.

He blinked, let his camera lens slide into place, and started taping.

)0(

Elizabeth Weir's office was tasteful, serene and edged in steel, not unlike Elizabeth herself. "Calm down, Rodney. You're going to have a heart attack if you keep pacing and yelling about John Sheppard. For heaven's sake, you know how they operate over there. If you're in our line of business long enough, you're bound to work at cross purposes now and again."

"Cross purposes? The man held an ORGY to secure complete rights to THREE Ancient sites. How can anyone allow that? How come nobody has stopped that sleaze ball from raping and pillaging the legacies of history?" Rodney threw his hands up in the air, unable to fully convey his feelings with pacing and yelling. "An ORGY, Elizabeth," he said feelingly.

"Rodney. If you had half a chance you'd be right in there pillaging the Ancient sites yourself," she said shrewdly. "And you'd throw the biggest damn orgy you could if it got you access."

"But it would be for the betterment of mankind! Not to turn into crass commercial opportunities!" Rodney protested. "Seriously. His methods are ... unethical and ... and ... exploitative of the less developed systems and why the hell hasn't the Oversight Committee done anything about this guy?"

Elizabeth leaned back in her chair, fingering the small statuette she kept on her desk. "That would be ideal, but ... we can't get anyone to testify. Do you think some planetary or system ambassador is going to admit to squandering his or her world's resources for a wild night and some money under the table?"

"Elizabeth, he had Aria there. She's one of the most noted courtesans of Pegasus, and her engagements are open to subpoena by the Oversight Committee. Not to mention Chaya," Rodney added. "The suite probably still has trace amounts of a dozen different controlled substances. Not to mention I have it on film. If we go after him with this, it'll stick."

"You'd think that it would," Elizabeth agreed. "And yet ... not so much. Not yet, anyway. Still, I have contacts on the committee. I'll set you up. But Rodney?" She lifted a single eyebrow. "Don't make me look like an idiot."

 

)0(

John was hip deep in the whirlpool on his balcony when Ronon opened the door. "Sheppard," he said.

"Ronon. I take it Hermiod's back in business. Did this body take?"

"Yeah. Although he's having a hard time with the shitting. And the erections keep surprising him," Ronon offered. 

"So why'd he take the new line of clones? Why not go for the old model?" Sheppard asked.

Ronon shrugged. "Beats me. He's a freaky little guy."

"Not so little anymore, thank-you very much, you great hairy ape," and though the register was deeper, it was still 100% Hermiod. His new body was as sleek and hairless as his old, and his eyes as wide and dark, but it was significantly more human looking and a good foot taller. "I will make this brief, as I apparently have finished digesting my breakfast and the discomfort is considerable. What have you been doing? I just received two communications, one from a very voluble man named Rodney McKay who has accused you of debauchery, and a summons by the Oversight Committee to review our practices in obtaining rights to Ancient technology. 

"It wasn't a debauch, just a little get together," John said. "Me, Cowen, seven or eight licensed courtesans, a Lurian and Chaya. And maybe half the guests from the Silver Lotus. A typical Friday night, really."

"I know Frigga, and her evenings are rarely spent in such a fashion," Hermiod sniffed. "Have you been ruining the good name of the company, Sheppard?"

"I've secured several millions worth of rights for the cost of a few pretty girls and boys, a bit of booze and a handful of promises to fund some pet projects Cowen's got going. Not even weapons!" he said, forestalling Hermiod's next comment. "Listen, you don't get to come in here and lecture me. You've been swapping bodies for the last six months like it's going out of style, and I've kept the company in the black. If you don't like my methods, then fire me. And be prepared to start entertaining clients and their messy, primate needs yourself."

Hermiod's eyes slitted closed in displeasure. "No thank-you. I simply wish for you to smooth things over with Doctor McKay so he will stop pestering me, and persuade the Committee that his charges are motivated by petulance. Also, you might wish to have someone destroy the film footage of the aftermath of your bargaining methods. Now, where is your washroom?"

"Through the other side of the walk-in," John said, standing up. "So. Want a beer?" he offered Ronon.

Ronon shrugged. "Sure. He'll be in there an hour at least."

John thought about that. "Eww." He got the beer out and handed one over, took one for himself and then tapped his comm implant. "Rodney McKay, Atlantis." A moment later there was a rather harried "Hello?" 

"Dr. McKay?"

"Speaking."

John took a long slow swig of his beer. "John Sheppard. A bit of friendly advice. Fuck off."

"Excuse me?" John grinned even though the pitch resonated uncomfortably inside his skull.

"Fuck off. If you can't compete, get out of the business. But leave me the hell alone." Ronon was smiling against the lip of his beer bottle.

"Listen, Sheppard, the only business you're in is ..."

"Stop being such a tight-ass. That's the way the universe works, doctor," he said.

Rodney sputtered. "Listen, you jackass, just because you think sex is a tool for ..."

"What isn't sex a tool for?" John said, grinning. This was fun.

"I don't use sex ..."

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me." He cut the transmission, and turned to grin at Ronon. "This is gonna be fun."

)0(

Rodney sniffed the air of The Andor Rejuvenation. Citrus. Wonderful.

He touched his tongue to make sure it wasn't swelling. "Chaya Athar?"

She turned her head on the massage table. "Doctor McKay?" She watched him through half-lidded eyes. "You said you needed me to testify for you at a hearing? I'm at a loss as to why you think I would be of any help to you."

Rodney smiled at her. "I've done a little research. I think I know what you're looking for. Apparently you have in your possession on Proculus, beneath the Temple City, an Ancient library, and early indications are that is has to do with Ascension, but it's locked up tight. Sheppard's promised to put his best people on it for you, in return for trading on your name. But he's not been able to get very far, has he?"

Chaya's eyes opened slightly. "Not yet."

Rodney smiled widely. "That's because of the staff he has at Asgard and Mann. They're bright enough, very good in their own way." He didn't want to get into the sheer incompetence that Chaya couldn't even begin to understand. "They can certainly reverse engineer things and build toys for the buying public, but ... they're not innovators in the same way as my company. At Atlantis, we have the best and the brightest, and we take what's there and expand, not merely reduce. We fill in the missing pieces, we make it work, we make it work better."

"Go on," Chaya said, coming up onto one arm and revealing a charming amount of pretty, pink-tipped breast. She waved the two women hovering over her away. 

Rodney rubbed his hands together. "If you testify for us, we'll help you find your way to glowsville."

Chaya sat upright, the soft cotton drape pooling around her hips and thighs. "Well, Doctor. You have my attention."

)0(

Hermiod's office was painted in pale greys and silvers, and his workstation looked like the science station of an Asgard research ship. The sleek, pale chairs were obviously a concession to his new body, as was the shining glass table supporting a tall, narrow decanter of water. 

"I still don't understand why you went with this body instead of the old style. It's not like you're going to actually procreate with ..." John trailed off at the imperceptible stiffening of Hermiod's shoulders beneath his grey and white tunic. "Wait. You are planning on procreating?"

"Thrungva was amongst the first to take the new form. She was desirous of exploring all the possibilities," Hermiod said primly. "Dr. Heightmeyer says that I will soon be ready to explore them as well."

"Soon being...?" John asked with a certain horrified fascination, because really? It was just like having the little guy walking around naked all over again.

"About one solar Atlantean year," Hermiod said.

"That soon," John said, eyebrows raised. Ronon, sitting in the far corner, raised a sympathetic eyebrow. "Well, Hermiod. You dog."

The inner eyelid slid shut and he made a hissing sound. "I am glad you find this amusing, John Sheppard."

"Oh, I don't. Trust me on that one, Hermiod." He was saved by the soft pulse of his comm. "Sheppard."  
"I had a visitor today, beloved," Chaya said softly. "A Doctor Rodney McKay. He has promised me access to my library if I testify for him."

"But Chaya, why would you testify...?" he turned his head away at Hermiod's suddenly intense stare. "I mean, haven't I always been here for you, sending you everyone that might have a chance to crack your library open?"

A soft huff of breath that might have been a laugh, or something far more dangerous. "It occurs to me that by delaying this, dragging it out, you've had access to my connections, my body, and my influence. That would make me ... foolish. And I've prided myself on the fact that I've never been anyone's fool. Unless, of course, you have a better offer?" 

John made strangling motions with his hands in the air in front of him. "Chaya! I have been combing through the ranks, reading boring science journal after boring science journal, and you know, after all your help, I was ready to throw the bank at hiring the one man who has the background to do the job, but if you really doubt me, why you just go ahead and testify for Dr. McKay and Atlantis."

Hermiod began to hiss out a string of Asgard curses. They were, apparently, filthy little bastards.

"You have someone?" Chaya said finally.

"The best, Chaya. The very best. Doctor..." and, oh, shit. "Doctor Frankle Baum," he said at last. "There it is, I knew I had the file just over here."

A pause.

"He's the best?" Chaya demanded.

"The very best," John promised. Hermiod's hissing had quieted down.

"I'll trust you once more, John," she decided after an agonizingly long wait. 

"Good. Good. How about you and I meet for lunch at the Piers, and I help you plan out how to handle the hearing, and fill you in on what Baum's been working on?" John held his breath.

"You're paying," Chaya said. 

"I wouldn't dream otherwise," John said and then cut the communication.

"I'm going to kill that man," John said. "With my bare hands."

"How wonderfully primitive of you," Hermiod said. "I would rather that you simply refute his argument at the hearing. 

"Oh, I'll do that." John opened a line. "Teyla? Novak? Can you get in here, please?"

When they arrived he pointed at Teyla. "You, get me lab space in Templeton Tower. Fill it up with every broken trinket we've got, making it look like the cutting edge. And hire somebody, uh, that contract guy, Peter? Get him in there, tell him to sound like he knows about Ancient accesses. Novak, you need to bring in the cleaners to get rid of any unwanted stains. Doctor Rodney McKay needs all his personal files, records and probably his subcutaneous storage mopped up so it's like they've never been used. And ... maybe replaced with something creative. What do you think, Hermiod? Creative sound good to you?"

Hermiod covered his eyes with his long, slim fingers. "I think your species left the trees far too soon," he said. "Do as he asks, Novak. And get out, all of you. I have apparently finished digesting my lunch, and wish for some privacy."

John winced. "Hermiod. You have to work on the whole TMI thing, or there'll be absolutely no procreating in your future."

Hermiod pointed at the door. "Leave now, please." 

John heard a muttered, "Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Hello, Doctor Heightmeyer?" even as the door slid closed.

)0(

It was, perhaps, the most devastating experience of Rodney's life. First Chaya had shown up in a prim black sheath, showing hardly any of her breasts and none of her thighs, and she'd spouted off some Ancient phrase about honour and achievement and then she'd lied, outright lied about what had happened at the Embassy Suites.

When Rodney had attempted to refute her with the aftermath footage he'd taken, he found instead that video Simpson had accidentally made that one time, at the office party, in the photocopy room. That regrettably very short video.

And when Chaya had brought up the orphans on Proculus that Sheppard apparently fed, clothed and tucked in every single night, well.

He was fucked.

After ten minutes of browbeating by Tomito and Woolsely, he'd managed to escape and find Chaya by the private docks.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded. 

Chaya shrugged. "Sheppard had something better up his sleeve. A Doctor Frankle Baum. He was recruited as a child, an incredible genius. He's been working for the United Planets under strict secrecy for the last twenty-five years. And he has machines that ... and he knows...!" She spread her hands almost apologetically. "I'm sorry. I met that strange little man, Zelenka, and Kusanagi, and they certainly had some good ideas, but ... I'm not prepared to wait. With Baum? I won't have to."

Her pod slipped into its berth and she walked in.

Rodney leaned up against the wall and banged his head a few times, then activated his comm. "Cadman? I want you to find me Doctor Frankle Baum. Now."

)0(

The lab was shiny, white, utterly perfect. Every available surface was littered with scrap projects and hopelessly broken pieces from various ancient sites. Peter, in his white lab coat, looked serious and thoughtful and exactly like the genius he'd been pretending to be. 

"The money's already wired to your account," John said. "Thanks for taking the gig on such short notice."

Peter smiled. "Thank-you for calling me in." He shrugged off the lab coat, laid it out on one of the counters. "You never called," he said, still smiling.

"I've been busy," John said, but Peter was dark and smooth and very, very pretty. "But I will, I promise."

"No you won't," Peter said wryly. "But that's okay. You still pay really, really well." He tapped the back of John's hand gently, a fleeting caress, and then headed out into the corridors of Templeton.

John watched him through the two-way glass, because Peter? 

Was very pretty.

He turned back to the bench, fiddling with the bits and pieces laid out. One of them hummed faintly in his hand, and hey, cool. It looked a little like a variation on the personal shield device they'd marketed a few years back, only smaller. It flashed blue-green in his left palm, and melded into the skin.

Shit.

"Dr. Baum?" He whirled to see a man standing behind him, about his own height and age with piercing blue eyes and an oddly tip-tilted mouth.

"Yes?" he said.

"Dr. Frankle Baum?" the man asked again.

"Uh, yes?" John said, hands behind his back, frantically trying to get the damn thing off.

"I'm Doctor Rodney McKay, and I'm here to offer you a job at Atlantis. Apparently you're the best of the best, even if I can't get hold of a single paper by you." He didn't look happy about that.

"My work until just last month has been protected by a non-disclosure seal. Most of it won't see daylight in my lifetime. To be honest," John said, fingers picking away at the apparently shrinking gadget, "I didn't think I'd be seeing daylight in my lifetime."

Rodney's mouth angled downward even further. "Yes. Well. Like I saying, I was wondering if I could interest you in Atlantis?"

The damn thing was gone. And Rodney was between him and the door. "Well, y'see, Dr. McKay? Mr. Sheppard's already made me an offer..."

"I can beat any money he's promised you," Rodney promised, taking a half step forward and he wasn't John's usual type but there was something about the mouth, about the way the eyes caught and held his own.

"Mr. Sheppard's offer comes with ... more than money, Doctor McKay," John said, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as the penny dropped and Rodney McKay flushed bright pink. "You have to understand that I've led a nearly ... well, to be frank, I've lived like a monk my whole life and suddenly there's this wide, wide universe out there and ... well. Mr. Sheppard strikes me as someone who knows his way around."

"Where he goes? You don't want to follow," Rodney said. "He'll prostitute your genius. Asgard and Mann are about profit. Atlantis is about knowledge. Surely there's no contest when you compare Sheppard's gross commercialism to what we have to offer?"

"Like. A. Monk," John enunciated, then turned away in feigned embarrassment. He scrubbed at his perfect pink hand and ... crap. "I know it sounds shallow, but man cannot live by intellectual stimulation alone, Doctor." Crap, crap and crap. Hermiod was going to shit himself.

Perhaps literally.

"And if I can show you as good a time as Sheppard?" Rodney said finally.

John turned to look at him over his shoulder. "How good of a time, Doctor?"

"The best," Rodney said, and that odd, lopsided mouth was oddly charming. "And maybe you should call me Rodney." 

It had been such a long time since John had done something just for the sheer hell of it. "Rodney, then."

"So," said Rodney, rubbing his palms together. "What sort of itinerary did Mr. Sheppard have in mind for you?"

John grinned, and started making a list.

If nothing else, it was one way to get rid of Rodney McKay.

)0(

It took a good hour to convince Elizabeth to open up the purse strings for this, but the argument that Asgard and Mann were courting Baum was eventually enough to persuade her. Which was why he and Baum were now on low couches in the lounge of one of the private suites in Sin, watching very naked young men and women in varying degrees of body paint perform intimate acts in front of them interspersed by brief moments of choreography. 

Baum's eyes were very, very wide. 

"Do you want anything to drink?" Rodney asked, and Baum shook his head. 

"I think this is a sight best enjoyed sober," he replied, canting his head to get a better angle of view. "I didn't realize that was even physically possible," Baum said finally.

"For most people? It isn't," Rodney replied, and then leaned back against his couch to let Baum enjoy himself. 

Oddly enough, though, Rodney didn't watch the show.

He watched Baum.

Not his usual type, not at all. Not blonde, not busty. But brilliant? He had that going for him. He could hold his own with most areas of Ancient technology, and had a fair grasp of mathematics though his knowledge of physics was confined to the practical rather than the theoretical. Still. Bright.

And funny, with odd moments of wryness and the occasional glimmer of ... something in his eye. 

So he watched Baum, and thought, anything for Atlantis.

And smiled when Baum started watching him back.

"So. A monk?" he asked. 

"Close enough to one," Baum agreed.

)0(

John woke in a very large bed, with a prettily painted and smudged woman on his right and very nicely built man on his left wearing nothing but tattoos. His comm vibrated peremptorily and rather gratingly, which meant it was probably Hermiod. He slipped out from between his bedmates and went into the water closet and under the cover of taking a leak he answered his comm.

"What?"

"What have you done, you hairy primate? Novak's inventory shows that an article is missing, AlephKaUn 23." Hermiod was livid.

"Uh, yeah. About that. That stuff wasn't supposed to be anything but busted, but when I touched it? It sort of disappeared. In me."

Hissing.

Oh, yeah. Livid.

"Forget that, though. I think, just maybe. I've got a way to get Atlantis off our backs for good." He washed his hands, started the shower running, allowing himself the luxury of water, hot and pulsing. 

"Go on," Hermiod said at last, testy but no longer swearing. 

"Give me a couple of days to play it out," John said, stepping into the shower, then cutting off his comm. He let the water hit his neck, his shoulders, stretching languidly as it loosened his muscles.

"So. What do you want to do today?" John opened his eyes to see Rodney standing there, his hips wrapped in a bed sheet, his arms flexed and showing nice muscle definition. His hair was rumpled and his feet were bare and something about that made John a little crazy.

You, John thought quite suddenly. I want to do you. Instead, he said, "How about the Extra-Solar Observatory?"

Rodney blinked. "That doesn't sound like someplace Sheppard would take you."

John leaned against the tile, felt his half-hard dick lift and fill. "No. But it's someplace you would take me, isn't it?"

Rodney blinked again. "Yeah. Okay. I'll get my assistant to arrange everything..."

"I can pay for today," John said, because that would make this something else, make it something better, perhaps.

Rodney just shook his head. "I have an expense account. Atlantis? Is very interested in you, Frankle." He smiled at John and then left.

John jerked off fast and hard.

)0(

The three-dimensional projection from the orbital telescopes was ... god.

He'd been coming here since he was seven, and it still made his heart just crack open in his chest. He turned his head to the side, watched Frankle watching the slowly moving display. "I was on an Asgard ship about ten years ago, observing those two stars," he offered, pointing to a binary system where one star was slowly consuming the other.

"That must have been ... cool," Frankle said, turning to look at Rodney. 

"Aside from spending six months on a ship full of Asgard -- the menu was cubed and chewy -- yeah, it was." He grimaced at the memory of Asgard cuisine. "It really was."

"Yeah. I get that," Frankle said quietly, his hazel eyes intent on Rodney's face. "Where else have you been?" 

Never quite here, Rodney thought, then pointed at a far corner. "There's an Ancient city there that's been turned into a research University. I got my second Master's there."

"In?" Frankle asked.

"Uh. Engineering. Yours?" he asked.

"Mathematics. I also have one in Literature," Frankle said, a sudden, wry smile twisting his lips up. "My father said that a life was only half-lived if you didn't have a little of everything under your belt."

"And do you?" Rodney asked. 

"Do I what?" Frankle said, eyebrow arched questioningly.

"Have a little of everything under your belt?" Rodney asked.

The wry smile widened, showed teeth. "Yeah. You could say that."

"Stop talking!" a very small voice piped up from behind them, and Rodney turned to see a very small, appallingly familiar little redhead in the seats behind him.

"Oh my God. You again. Do you even have a parent? Or did she enrol in some sort or relocation plan to get away from you?" Rodney demanded.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and kicked his seat.

"Hey, hey. Sorry," Frankle leaned over, looked down at her. Her angry little face just ... smoothed right out. "Didn't mean to ruin the show for you. But Rodney there? He's been a lot of those places, and he knows a tonne of stuff. Maybe if you have any questions you could ask him?"

Her pale gaze darted between the two of them, and then, finally, she pointed up at one of the more interesting features overhead. "What's that?"

Rodney was only halfway through his explanation when she pointed to something else and asked, "What's that?" Her vicious little mouth was curved in a knowing smile.

Children, thought Rodney, were evil.

He sure as hell had been.

)0(

The shuttle flew them over the water, out to the edge of Hallington, just as the sun was sinking in the south. John carried the enormous basket of food that Rodney's assistant, Cadman, had delivered, and Rodney complained about bugs.

"I am going to be bit by something and next thing you know there'll be a super genius bug-human hybrid evolving," Rodney said when they'd finally spread the groundcover out on the pale blue sands. "It'll be the end of life as we know it!"

John handed him a round of cheese and thinbread. "Well, at least we'll go out well fed." He pulled out the bottle of wine, and two glasses.

"There is that," Rodney said around a healthy mouthful. "You know, Frankle, it seems to me that this still isn't ... well, it's not helping with your ... you know, lack of experience, speaking of appetites."

John looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "I've found that ... maybe what I thought was hunger was just a craving for ... one thing."

"What thing?" Rodney asked. "Seriously. I'll help you get it."

"It's not an ... it," John said evasively, and rubbed at the sudden tickle in his palm.

"Who, then," Rodney rolled his eyes. "Whoever it is, I can get her." His good humour sounded forced.

"Him," said John, sipping his wine, watching the sunset.

"Him, then," Rodney said, and he swallowed hard, like his throat was half-closed. John turned and looked at Rodney and the temptation was ...

way, way too much.

"Him," John repeated, and when he touched the smooth skin at the nape of Rodney's neck his palm pulsed, flared, sent a sudden heat spiralling through his body.

"Oh. Huh. I really ... I wasn't ... expecting ..." and Rodney looked so flustered and flushed that John pulled his hand away, though it made his body ache to do it. Only Rodney reached out, touched his wrist, pulled him back. "I said I wasn't expecting," he said finally, his voice cracking. "And I have to admit I've never worked this polarity before, but ..." he reached out again, trailed shaking fingers down the back of John's neck. John closed his eyes, leaned in and tasted that crooked mouth.

"You do understand this isn't Atlantis, right? This is me," Rodney said finally, breathing hard, his lips drifting down to catch the angle of John's jaw.

"Rodney?" John said softly.

"Yeah?" Dazed, breathlessly, only a ring of bright blue around dark, round pupils and God. God. Oh, God.

"You still have that suite at Sin?" John asked, a little frantically.

"Yeah," Rodney said. And then, "Yeah."

They packed up the basket and went back to the shuttle station.

)0(

The sheets smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and ausu and the cotton was thin and smooth as silk beneath his back as Frankle tumbled them both into the very large bed, both of them half crazy from two hours of foreplay that barely even involved touching. Long, clever fingers found all the fastenings of his clothes, stripping Rodney bare in minutes even as Rodney scrabbled to unhook the dark vest, to pull the raw silk shirt free from the fitted trousers. Finally, finally they were naked and touching everywhere, mouths, tongues, fingertips.

"I want to eat your ass," Frankle said after a forever, his hand hot on Rodney's hip. "God, let me, please, let me?" and Rodney found himself turning, bracing himself on knees and forearms. He felt the soft slick of a steripad and then the rough, wet lathe of Frankle's tongue as those clever, clever fingers pulled him open, exposed him. Rodney groaned roughly as Frankle alternated slow, wet, sucking kisses with soft flutters of the tongue. He gasped when Frankle worked his tongue inside, setting every damn nerve ending on fire in Rodney's body.

"God," he said. "Oh, God, please, I need, please," and the heat was all through him, setting him alight and Frankle pulled back, kissed his hip, whispered something that sounded like "on" against his skin. There was a rustle, and cool, slick fingers pushing and playing and making him damned insane and then Frankle was pushing slowly in with his cock, inch by inch coming to own Rodney.

A few, gentle thrusts and Frankle pulled Rodney up against him so that Rodney straddled his thighs, his forearm bracing Rodney's chest and his left palm pressed hard against Rodney's pubic mound as Rodney jacked himself hard and fast in counterpoint to Frankle's steady pistoning.

"Come, come on, Rodney, please, c'mon," Frankle bit the juncture of neck and shoulder and his hand was impossibly warm against the edge of Rodney's belly and it pulsed, trembled, releasing a shockwave of sensation through Rodney who dropped his head back onto Frankle's shoulder and just ... just... fuck...let himself go. Frankle's measured thrusts only lasted until Rodney had fallen forward again and then he was pressed into Rodney, skin on skin, frantic and unsteady and gasping brokenly until his body tensed and he came with a belly-deep groan.

"Oh, God," Frankle said at last, pulling back gently. He stood up, rummaged though the bedside table for personal wipes, came back and very gently took care of Rodney, who was too damned exhausted to move. And then he was curling up alongside him, tucking his face into the back of Rodney's neck, leg thrown over Rodney's as they drifted into sleep.

)0(

The insistent buzz of his comm pulled Rodney out of sleep and he answered it as he stumbled away to take a pee and shower.

"Rodney." Elizabeth. Steely Elizabeth. He blinked. 

"Yes?"

"I was reviewing the expenses coming in for bringing in Baum, and. Well. I got a little concerned. So I started checking him out, to make sure he was worth it. And I couldn't turn up anything. Not a thing. From anyone." Absolute zero, cold enough to make his testicles curl up against his body.

"I told you most of his work was deeply classified..." Rodney began, but Elizabeth just said "Rodney," and he shut up.

"I then called in Cadman, to get a vid of him from when she delivered your basket. And imagine my surprise when I see you ... wining and dining John Sheppard. You're on unpaid suspension while I figure out what to do about this ...mess," she said, displeasure evident.

"Never mind the suspension," Rodney said, his tongue numb in his mouth and it felt like he couldn't breathe at all, except for the fact that he was. "I resign." He broke off the connection before she could say anything more, then blocked all incoming.

He looked at himself in the mirror and hated himself, not for the first time in his life, but perhaps the most profoundly.

)0(

"Frankle?" John opened his eyes to see Rodney looking down at him, his eyes oddly serious. "I was thinking ... maybe I could take you back to my place? It's not Sin, but ... I've got a nice kitchen, and a good entertainment system ... and I'd really like you to come over."

John blinked. "Yeah. Yeah. I'd like that. And ... we could talk," he said. "I think we should talk."

Rodney leaned down, kissed almost him almost sweetly. "And not talk," he said, his voice rough. "Have a shower. Get dressed. I'll order a pod to the private dock."

John watched him leave and then stood, stretched, rubbed absently at his left hand. The skin flared blue-green and out popped the device. Well. Huh. He found his pants and slipped it in the pocket, and then headed for the shower.

When he came out again, dry and clean and apparently no longer under the influence of an Ancient aphrodisiac, he still really wanted to go to Rodney's place, and wasn't that a kick in the ass?

"Pod's here," Rodney said quietly, palming the switch so the lock opened, and John smiled, kissed him, went in and took his seat. After a minute he realized Rodney hadn't followed him in, and he turned to see him still in the private dock. "Good-bye, John," Rodney said and then he palmed the door shut. The pod hummed to life and then hurtled out over the City and, oh, God. 

Rodney had overwritten the piloting codes.

He tapped his comm, got Rodney's voicemail, personally targeted for him alone. "You'll live," Rodney's voice informed him. "That's about all I'm promising. Don't leave a message. I'll just erase it." 

John pulled the emergency harness on, and settled in for the ride.

)0(

Ronon and Hermiod bailed John out.

"Joy riding in a pod?" Ronon asked. "Didn't you used to be a pilot?"

"It was rigged," John said grimly. "Did you bring me clean clothes?"

"Yeah. You smell like puke," Ronon said sympathetically.

"Thank-you. You're the fourth person to point that out to me," John said, grabbing the garment bag and slipping into the men's room. 

"Boss is out to kill you," Ronon said conversationally as John changed.

"He'll have to get in line," John said.

"Well, Atlantis is threatening us with the Oversight Committee again, and Chaya's gotten wind you conned her, and ... there are government agents crawling all over the offices. You're going to have to pull a miracle out of your ass to get out of this one." Ronon did not look like a man who believed in miracles.

John picked up his stained trousers and fished the little tech out of his pocket. "How about the mother of all sex-drive enhancers? For you ... and your partner. It works for anyone with the gene or gene-enhancement, and if you've got either ... you've got money to pay through the nose for it."

Ronon raised his eyebrow, "Could work."

Hermiod, when presented with the device, blinked slowly. "Well. This is a beginning," he said finally. "Now that we know what direction to proceed, see if it can be reworked for non-carriers and non-human physiologies, as well."

John blinked tiredly at him. "Huh. Hermiod, you dog, you," he said finally. 

"I still do not like defecation," the Asgard admitted. "But the erections are proving to be ... pleasant."

"And that, right there, is TMI," John said.

)0(

Three months and no Rodney.

Not that he hadn't tried. He'd tried to go through Elizabeth Weir, but she'd insisted he'd left Atlantis, and he tried to hire a private investigator but apparently the whole conservation of energy/matter thing was a lie because about 90 kilograms of astrophysicist could just disappear utterly.

Still. They'd managed to come to agreement with Atlantis to split some of the sites, with them exploiting the commercial aspects and Atlantis tackling the pure sciences. And Chaya had dropped her lawsuit when Peter had managed to convince her to find enlightenment on another, somewhat less esoteric and rather more corporeal path. 

But still no Rodney.

Teyla watched him from across the desk, and set down her PDA. "I'm thinking of asking to be transferred to Hermiod's team. Since he's ... embraced his new physiology, he seems to have become much more fun than you, John."

"Well, you know, kids with new toys," John said, but his heart wasn't in it, and Teyla was a really, really wonderful human being, because she reached out and touched his hand but didn't say anything at all.

The comm in his head vibrated and he answered. "Sheppard here."

"Get to my office now." and then just dead air.

John rolled his eyes and made his way over and up to Hermiod's office, only to find a pale and hiccupping Novak behind the outer desk. "There a man here to see you, John. He doesn't exist in public records," she said, in a stage whisper.

He went in to find Hermiod blinking balefully at a short, stocky man with too many teeth in a too-big smile. "Good afternoon, Mr. Sheppard. I'm Maybourne. I'm here to ... persuade you to stop production of the Lofn chip. It is cutting into a niche that's been ours for a very, very long time." 

"And if we don't?" Hermiod asked.

"We'll infiltrate, undermine and utterly destroy your entire organization," Maybourne's said genially and apparently utterly sincerely.

"And if we do?" John asked.

"We'll pay you a sum with a truly staggering number of zeroes, and sign an agreement to share access to any Ancient technology that falls outside of my company's normal areas of business. We handle sex and love, you stick to better ways to clean your house." He smiled. "Pfizer-Khem has worked well with the Goa'uld Finance Lords for several generations. The Asgard are a respected name, but ... you lack the motivation that the Goa'uld have displayed in the past."

"Because we don't buy and dismantle worlds?" Hermiod sniffed. Or as close to it as a he could, with the odd little nose slits he still had.

"We'll take it," John said, shooting a warning look at Hermiod. 

"I knew I could count on you to be a smart man," Maybourne said. "Our accountants will be in touch." He nodded, still smiling, and turned and left.

"It is not your place to ..." Hermiod said, but John pointed at him. "You. Shut-up. You're very, very smart about a lot of things but you're dumb about people. Maybourne is bad news. Consider this my parting gift to you. I just saved you a world of trouble."

Hermiod's eyes narrowed. "Parting gift?"

"I resign," John said.

"Ah," said Hermiod. "I would ask, but it would probably be ...?"

"TMI," John agreed. 

Hermiod nodded. "I shall miss your presence. You are a very annoying hairy primate, but I have grown used to you."

"I like you, too," John said, and they stared awkwardly at one another for a minute or two. "Okay, that was weird. Take good care of Ronon and Teyla, okay?" and then he was heading out to the transport docks, catching the first pod to Atlantis Tower. 

)0(

Elizabeth Weir was just as formidable as he remembered from the three or four meetings she'd attended as they'd hammered out their agreement. "I want to see Rodney."

"Doctor McKay is no longer ..." but John held his hand up. 

"I know. I also know you know where he is. You wouldn't lose track of a resource like him. So tell me where he is. Please." He swallowed hard.

Elizabeth thawed slightly, but still she shook her head. "I can't tell you," she said. "Now, if that's all, I have a meeting to get to. Laura will show you out." She stood, smiled at him, and gestured to the door. John rubbed at his eyes and swallowed again.

Just ... fuck.

Halfway back to the Atlantis docking ports Laura stopped, looked around and pulled him over into the nearby women's refresher. "Listen," she said, and she wasn't Laura, oh, God, she was Cadman. "Listen," she repeated. "Rodney will kill me about a hundred different ways for telling you this but ... aw, man. There are some things you aren't supposed to keep secret and ... he's fucking miserable, okay, and he's a jerk but he's kind of sweet, too. I really like him though I'll deny it if you ever tell anyone I said that." She pulled John's PDA out of his pocket and updated it and then pressed it back into his hands. "Seriously. Go. He's ... he's so damned miserable. You have no idea." 

John took her face between his hands and kissed her forehead soundly. "Thanks. Thanks a lot," he said, and then he was running. It was only when he stopped to order a pod up that he actually read what Laura had uploaded and ...

well.

Crap.

Just as well they wouldn't be marketing the Lofn chip after all.

He touched the pale image on the screen, tapped it so that it projected into 3D, and then watched the tiny heart flutter beneath the translucent skin.

)0(

His wallscreen flickered to life and the AI's voice said, "Rodney, you have a visitor." Rodney rolled over in bed and opened his eyes tiredly, only to see a six-foot projection of John Sheppard's face staring down at him.

"Tell him to go away. And put Cadman on my list," he said.

"I'm not leaving, Rodney, so stop being an asshole and let me in," John's voice sounded tinny in the speakers, nothing at all like ... like.

Aw, hell.

He got up and went to the door. 

"Leave me alone," he said, but John just shook his head. "Fine, don't leave me alone. It's not like I didn't already know that you're an asshole." He turned and went back to his bedroom.

John followed him in. "You okay?" he asked, looking at the glass on the nightstand and the basin by the bed.

Rodney laughed. "Yeah. More or less. The doctors say it will pass."

"Morning sickness usually does," John agreed. Rodney thumped his head against the pillow in sheer frustration.

"I'm going to kill Cadman," he said finally. "So. Yeah. Apparently your little Lofn chip -- and I've been reading the specs on that with a great deal of interest, I assure you -- well, the template one you had inside of you? Rebuilt my insides enough for me to conceive. That's just so ... wrong. I mean, horribly, horribly wrong," Rodney said.

"We've been working on male pregnancy for years for same-sex families; it's not unheard of, a man carrying," John said tentatively.

"It's not about a man conceiving. It's about me conceiving," Rodney said, rolling onto his side to glare fiercely at John. "I'm terrible with kids. I hate them. They hate me."

"So why didn't you just vacuum it out?" John asked and Rodney sat up then, so angry he couldn't see straight and he punched John Sheppard as hard as he could.

Which, to judge by the results, was pretty damn hard indeed. He handed over his pillowcase to help staunch the bleeding.

"Well, that answers that," John said ruefully, when he'd finally stopped dripping. And then he leaned in and kissed Rodney, tentative and scared and exactly how Frankle would have kissed, if he'd been as inexperienced as John had pretended. "Listen. This started out ... wronger than wrong, okay? But at the end ... God. I've been going crazy trying to find you," he said, and his voice was rough and his hands shook a little where they held Rodney's biceps. "And I'm good with kids. And I love you. Okay? okay?" he said and Rodney wanted to hit him again but he wanted to kiss him more, so he leaned in, bit John's lower lip gently, opened his own mouth to John's tongue.

"I've never done this before," John said softly, after a while. 

"There's evidence in this room that proves otherwise," Rodney said dryly.

John rolled his eyes. "I've done that," he said. "But not this," and his mouth was gentle and tentative and ... oh. 

John had never done this before. "We can figure it out as we go," Rodney said.

"Okay. And by the way, my name is John Sheppard," he whispered against the curve of Rodney's neck. "The important stuff, though? You already know a lot of that."

"Okay," said Rodney. He lay down, turned onto his side and John reached out and traced the line of his mouth. "Yeah, it's crooked. We'll hope the kids gets your looks and my brains."

"I like your mouth," John said, and kissed it just to prove his point.

)0(

End "Lover Come Back"

**Author's Note:**

> Of course Hermiod had to take Tony Randall's character!


End file.
